


復讐

by Ava_The_Stargazer



Category: Yandere Simulator (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Death, F/M, Gen, Help Mr. Aishi 2k17, Mentions of past abuse, Mr. Aishi Trying to be a Good Dad, Murder, This story is like half psych study half dad troubles, at least in the first two chapters, he needs it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2018-10-12 12:16:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 4,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10490712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ava_The_Stargazer/pseuds/Ava_The_Stargazer
Summary: 復讐- Fukushū. To retaliate or take revenge.Haruto Aishi finally gets his revenge on Ryoba.Now he has to deal with the fallout.





	1. Fallout

**Author's Note:**

> *Pops party popper* My first fic is here! I've been wanting to write this for a while, and I finally got around to it. I've always kind of wanted a story were the poor Senpai gets his revenge on his Yandere, and who better than Ayano's dad, who's lost almost 18 years of his life to Ryoba?

Haruto Aishi looks down at the knife slick with Ryoba’s blood. Laughter bubbles up inside him as he falls down to his knees, soaking his pant legs in the steadily growing red pool surrounding his wife.

She’s dead now, she has to be- the malicious sparkle usually found in her eyes is gone, replace by the dead, dull look they now hold. He wonders if this is what it felt like for her when she slaughtered Tomoko in the bathroom all those years ago. Probably not, he thinks, as he looks down at the stab wound in Ryoba’s neck. No, he thinks. Tomoko wouldn’t have tried to choke Ryoba like his wife had tried to do to him. Tomoko was sweet and kind, never wanting to hurt a fly- Ryoba, the witch she was, seemed to have relished the idea of taking a life.

Haruto laughs again, hysteria ebbing and flowing in his veins. He’s never seen a dead body like this- moments after death, still warm from the life that has just left them. The morning sun shines through the windows, illuminating the gruesome scene with a dissonant cheerfulness. If Ayano were here, she'd be eating breakfast in the other room. He's suddenly very, very grateful that she's at summer camp this week.

He drops the knife and it clatters to the floor next to her body. He doesn't like knives. They had taken so much from him in the past 18 years. He lets his arms fall to his sides, and as his hands touch the warm, slippery floor he remembers exactly what he's just collapsed in.

He snatches his hands off the floor, away from the dark pool surrounding him. They’re slick and scarlet and reek of iron. He examines them carefully, watching as the blood runs down his arms and drips from his elbows onto the laminate wood floor.  He rubs his fingers together, fascinated. It doesn’t feel like blood.

It feels like _freedom_.


	2. Realization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally got around to updating, yay! (Just fair warning to you guys, this story probably isn't going to have any concrete updating schedule due to my life being very hectic currently. )
> 
> But here's the second chapter. I'm pretty proud of it, to be honest.

After the adrenaline fades away, Haruto realizes exactly what he’s done. The joy drains out of him the same time the blood drains from his face.

His stomach lurches, and he barely makes it to the bathroom before his stomach empties itself. He thinks it’s over for a moment, his stomach settling ever so slightly, but sees the blood from his hands smeared on the porcelain of the toilet bowl and gags again.

Finally, after what seems like forever, his stomach stops turning and he can sit up properly. He flushes and moves over to the sink almost robotically and washes his hands, watching the blood swirl down the drain. After several gargles of mouthwash, a face scrubbing, and a hand run through his hair, Haruto looks like Haruto again.

Almost.

His mind wanders to the body of his wife lying in the kitchen. His stomach turns.

 _Don’t you fucking dare,_ he tells it.

It complies.

He can’t tell the police. He can’t. They’ll lock him away and then he’ll never see Ayano again- she’ll be taken to some random home by the government, always pitied because her dad went postal and murdered her mother. Pity was the last thing Ayano needed. He needed to be there for her, to keep her on the right tack, to guide her to being the good woman he knew she could be.

He has to get rid of the body. Somehow. Dear God, how would he do that?

He shuffles out to the kitchen. Ryoba’s lying there in a pool of her own blood, and he purposely doesn’t look at her.

A odd buzzing noise from nearby nearly gives him a heart attack. He looks around the kitchen for the source of the noise and realizes it’s his phone. It sits on the kitchen counter, as innocent as can be. He picks it up carefully, as if it’s going to explode.

He’s gotten a text. From someone with no number.

He reads it, and his stomach twists.

_Sent August 21, 8:25 AM: I know what you’ve done._


	3. Messages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Lord, I'm sorry. It's been like, what, three weeks since I updated? I don't know. Point is, it's been like a week too long since I last updated. School's been nuts (yay testing, amirite?) so I haven't had time for anything but that. 
> 
> Anyways, here's the third chapter! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

The blood drains from Haruto’s face for the second time that day, and he nearly drops his phone. He hurriedly types a reply.

_ Sent August 21, 8:26 AM: Who are you? How do you know? _

Barely a moment passes before he gets a reply.

_ Sent August 21, 8:26 AM: That’s not important. _

_ Sent August 21, 8:26 AM: What I can tell you is that I’m impressed. And I want to help you. _

Help? How the hell could they  _ help _ him?

_ Sent August 21, 8:27 AM: I have connections that’ll help you get rid of your little mess. Just do as I say, and the police will never know. _

Suspicion creeps into his mind. He’s dealt with shady people for the past 19 years of his life. There’s a price. 

(There’s always a price.)

_ Sent August 21, 8:28 AM: So what do you want in return? _

Their reply is swift.

_ Sent August 21, 8:28 AM: Oh, nothing much. Just a little video. _

They tell him exactly what they want from him, and H aruto’s nose wrinkles up in disgust.

_ Sent August 21, 8:29 AM: What the fuck is wrong with you? I have self respect. _

He could almost hear the frustrated sigh slipping from their lips. 

_ Sent August 21, 8:29 AM: Listen, Haruto, do you want help? Because we both know I could just as easily leave you alone.  _

_ Sent August 21, 8:29 AM: Or would you like the police to come and make a visit? I can arrange that. _

 His eyes flicker from the phone to Ryoba, and picture of Ayano on the fridge catches his eye. Something in him hardens. No. _No._ He can’t let that happen. Ayano, sweet, happy Ayano, doesn’t deserve to go through this.

_ Sent August 21, 8:30 AM: No. I’ll do it. _

There’s a pause on their end, for once. His stomach flips. Why aren’t they responding?

His phone buzzes in his hand and their message pops up on the screen.

_ Sent August 21, 8:31 AM: Excellent. Just do as I say, and you’ll be fine. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing Info-Chan. Her calculated, sneaky way of "speaking" is such a joy to write. Also, poor Haruto. He gets in a little over his head in this chapter. Who knew killing someone would be such a pain in the arse?


	4. Disposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I know it's been a while since the last update, and I'm really sorry that I wasn't able to sooner! I just finished up with school and end of year exams, so forgive the lack of update for a whole month. I told you guys that the update schedule was going to be nonexistent, and I'm a woman of my word, I guess. On a different note, I'm honestly shocked that this story as of May 30th, 2017, has over 320 reads and 18 kudos! I'm super glad you guys are reading and genuinely liking my story! As a writer, that makes me overjoyed.
> 
> Also, I may have found an actor that I picture as Haruto- Tetsuji Tamayama. He's the same age as Haruto in this story, and he's handsome enough for one to believe that a lot of girls had crushes on him in high school.
> 
> (Anyways, we continue with the murderous adventures of poor Haruto Aishi. Someone give this man a break, he needs it.)

 Haruto’s skin crawls as he wipes clean the last of the mess he's made. He glances in the mirror one last time, and he looks at his mussed hair and flushed cheeks. He’s never hated himself more.

He sends his _friend_ the video they’d asked him to take.

_Sent August 21, 8:43 AM: This should do well._

He curls his lip in disgust.

_Sent August 21, 8:43 AM: What do you even need something like this for?_

There’s a slight pause before they reply.

_Sent August 21, 8:44 AM: I run… a business, of sorts._

_Sent August 21, 8:44 AM: I sell pictures and videos to my customers. The people in said pictures and videos send them in so I do favors for them._

_Sent August 21, 8:44 AM: The bigger the favor, the more I request in return. Thus the reason why you had to send me a video, and why someone why needs a pack of cigarettes needs just a few lewd pictures._

They don’t send anything for a moment.

_Sent August 21, 8:45 AM: You won’t tell anyone what I just told you, or else I go to the police. Understood?_

He types out his affirmation, pressing send as he pulls his shirt back over his head.

_Sent August 21, 8:45 AM: Good. Get to the location I sent you. Your ride awaits._

Haruto creeps out of his bathroom and takes a long look at the suitcase sitting in the hallway. He shudders a little as he thinks of Ryoba lying in there, curled up in a fetal position and surrounded by a few sets of her clothing.

He looks okay now- the clothes that were ruined by the blood were shoved in the suitcase alongside Ryoba, and he’s in an unassuming cardigan and jeans. He smoothes down his hair, taking a deep breath and lugging it towards the front door. The neighborhood that he lives in is a cozy little area, and the people here seem trusting enough that they won’t question why he’s got a suitcase with him. He’s not for sure, though.

He’s never sure anymore.

The directions his “friend” sends him leads him to an area of town near the shore that’s practically abandoned. He reckons that the only people here are the occasional delinquent or petty criminal, which doesn’t necessarily ease his nerves. He pulls into a gravel parking lot, and can see a rickety looking dock and a small fishing boat tied to one of the posts. His GPS proudly announces that he’s reached his destination.

_Here goes nothing._

He drags the suitcase towards the dock, its wheels clattering against the gravel a bit too loudly. There’s a man on the boat reading some sort of magazine - about what, he can’t tell. It has a cartoon schoolgirl on the front, so he’s not sure if he even _wants_ to know.

The clattering of his suitcase, this time against the wood planks, is what alerts the man to his presence. He shoves the magazine under his seat- _Thank God,_ Haruto thinks- and sits up straighter. On closer inspection, the man isn’t really a man, more like some kid fresh out of high school. Judging from his lack of posture and copious amount of gelled hair, he assumes this kid was part of the delinquents’ gang.

The kid sizes him up, his narrow eyes both wary and judgemental.

“You the guy?”

“I guess so.”

“C’mon, then. Get on.”

Haruto manages to get the suitcase onboard without much hassle. The kid gives him and his luggage one last once-over before untying the boat and starting it.

It’s a very, very long fifteen minutes before the kid shuts off the boat and turns to speak to him.

“We’re about five miles off the coast. You can dump the suitcase here.”

It takes a little bit of effort to get the suitcase over the edge. He rests it on the edge of the boat for a moment, and he swears he just heard the kid snicker at his struggle.

(And just like that, he loses a little bit of respect for his daughter’s generation.)

He shoves the suitcase over the edge, and it hits the water with a satisfying splash.

He watches it sink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, this chapter turned out way longer than expected. Guess that happens when you write at one in the morning. 
> 
> So what do you guys think Info-Chan asked Haruto to do in that video? Tell me in the comments. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> On a more serious note, I wanted to get your guys' opinion on this. Do you guys like it? Anything I should do differently or expand on? Please tell me! I'd love to get some feedback!


	5. Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely readers! I'm back with another chapter, and in this one, you guys get to meet my version of Ayano! I'll explain more about her characterization in the End of Chapter notes.
> 
> If any of you were wondering, (which you probably weren't, but Imma still put this in) the playlist I've been listening to while writing this story is: Midnight Walk and you can find it here on Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PQSljVL5ARA#

Three days after Haruto dumped the suitcase, he picks Ayano up from summer camp. 

When he pulls into the parking lot, he can see a group of girls standing in the grass. They all excitedly chat with each other, exchanging phone numbers, taking pictures, and saying goodbyes. He notices a girl standing a little ways away from the rest.

Ayano.

He pulls into a parking space and walks over to his daughter. The other girls stare at him as he passes by, and he hears them whisper.

_ Who is that? _

_ He’s so handsome! _

He unconsciously hunches his shoulders forward in an attempt to not be seen. It’s a habit he picked up after being with  _ her _ for so long. The less noticed by women  _ he _ was, the nicer  _ she  _ was.

Haruto brushes past them and reaches his daughter, who’s dressed in knee-length overalls and a t-shirt of one of her favorite bands. He’d taken her to one of their concerts once, and his heart swelled at the memory of her eyes lighting up when the bandmates burst onstage.

She’s staring off into the distance, her eyes focused on some far-off place that he can’t see.

“Aya. Come back to Earth.”

The girl starts and blinks up at him. “Oh, Dad. Hi.”

“Long time no see, huh?”

“It’s only been a week, Dad.” Ayano sighs, but her can see the traces of a smile on her lips. She gives him a quick hug and moves to grab her suitcase.

He’s already got his fingers wrapped around the handle. “I’ve got it. C’mon, say goodbye to your friends and we can get going.”

Ayano just turns towards the group of girls. “Bye, guys. See you next summer. Maybe.” Only two girls repeat the sentiment. One, a curvy girl with blonde hair, beams and waves back. The other, a very small girl with bangs, tells her that she can’t wait for next summer to come around. The other girls watch and whisper with roaming eyes.

They get everything in the car easily enough, and when they pull out of the parking lot, he glances over at his daughter, who’s looking out the window, her eyes darting around, as if she’s trying to memorize as much of the forest as she can before she leaves.

“So, Ayano.”

Those dark eyes of hers flick over towards him.

“Who were those girls who said bye to you? Friends?”

She nods. “Yeah. Nasami and Setsuko. They were in the same cabin as me. They already knew each other beforehand, but we all sorta stuck together. They’re from Muzara Town.”

“Did you get their numbers?”

“Yeah.”

Haruto beams as his gaze flits off the road for a moment to look at Ayano’s face. She looks happy, for once. “Good! It’s great that you’re talking to girls your age.”

There’s a lull in conversation for a moment, and he takes the time to appreciate the countryside. It’s so peaceful. Quiet. He understands why Ayano wouldn’t want to leave.

Ayano shifts on her seat, tuning so that she’s looking directly at him.

“Dad.”

“Yeah?”

“Where’s mom?”

(All she had to say were two words, and his heart drops into his stomach.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys probably hate me right now because of that cliffhanger. *cackling*
> 
> On a more serious note, I'm going to explain how my version of Ayano is. Ayano in my story is not emotionless. She does have emotions, but they aren't as powerful as normal person's. It's like if she could only see blurs of light and color instead of real objects. She can see, but she can't experience the real picture like a normal person could. When she's around Senpai, everything turns crystal clear and she's allowed to see the world for what it truly is. It's very similar to Yanderedev's version, but tweaked slightly to be more realistic and to make it easier on me to write. 
> 
> Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, and don't forget to comment!


	6. Discussions

Haruto exhales, shaking his head. “You couldn’t have waited to get home, could you?” Ayano doesn’t say anything, just stares at him with a look in her eyes that sends chills up his spine. “She left.”

“Left?”

He looks back at her. “I woke up one morning and she was gone. No note, no anything.” The practised lie slips past his lips like water in a stream.

Ayano breaks eye contact and looks to the floor of the car. “Oh.”

He looks back at the road, at the endless strip of asphalt cutting through fields and forests. “Yeah.” The silence in the car is deafening, and he turns the radio up louder.  He hates the song that’s playing, but it’s better than nothing.

Ayano doesn’t bring up her mother again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for such a short chapter. I've been struggling with writer's block and a crazy schedule, and this chapter is mostly a transitional chapter than anything. I hope you guys liked it!


	7. Comforts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back from the dead! And, in this chapter, you'll get to see more of Ayano and Haruto's father-daughter bond.

They’re driving through some little seaside town when he notices a sign for a local ice cream shop. He takes a look at Ayano, who’s staring out the window with a sad yet oddly vacant expression. His heart sinks. He knows she’s taking the loss far harder than she lets on.

“Aya, love. How does some ice cream sound?”

She looks away from the ocean, her eyes lighting up ever so slightly. “Yeah.” She pauses, as if she’s trying to gauge what to say next. “Yeah. That’d be great.” He voice is hollow, sad. For a moment, he almost regrets what he’s done.

Almost.

Barely a minute passes before the ice cream shop appears, all cheerful looking with pastel yellow siding and white accents. As they step out of the car, he can hear the chatter of a group of teenagers drift over from the grassy area next to the shop. The wind blows, stirring up the humid air, and he smiles. Summer was always his favorite season. 

He falls into step beside his daughter, smiling softly. “What flavor are you gonna get?” She looks at him and shrugs.

“Vanilla, probably.”

He shakes his head and grins. “You’re such a Plain Jane.”

She pushes open the shop doors, an eyebrow quirked. “Plain Jane?”

“An American saying. It means you’re  _ boring _ .”

Ayano pouts. “You’re so mean.”

He chuckles and hugs her to his side. “I was only joking, Ayano.”

The teen smiles, wriggling out of his grasp. “I know, Dad.” 

The shop is admittedly cute, with checkered tile floors, red leather barstools along the counter and baby blue walls. It reminds him of the old-fashioned places he’d seen in America when his family went there when he was a child. 

By the time they get their ice cream and walk outside, the sky had turned grey. The teenagers had gone, leaving paper napkins fluttering across the lawn.

He takes a lick from his strawberry cone and looks up at the sky. “You think it’s gonna rain?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you know?”

Thunder rumbles in the distance as Ayano casually takes a bite from her cone. “That.” 

The sky rumbles again, louder this time, and Haruto doesn’t want to stick around for the storm. “C’mon, let’s get home.”

She doesn’t protest. As they pull out of the parking lot a song from one of Ayano’s favorite bands comes on.  Her eyes light up and she turns the volume up, loud enough to almost be irritating but not quite. 

As the car rolls down the road, speakers blaring, rain begins to fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think that in this fic, rain symbolizes both cycles and new beginnings. Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed!


	8. Terrors

“ _Ha-ru~_ ” The voice singsongs, and his blood runs cold. “Haruto, dear, I’m home!” He closes the book he’s reading and looks up to see _her._

The demon.

He fakes a smile. “Hello, love.”

She frowns, and he can see the flames in her eyes begin to light. “You don’t look happy, dear! Was _some girl_ bothering you at work?”

“No. I’m not feeling well, that’s all.” His eyes are focus on the door behind her, leading out to the backyard. A little part of him wonders if he’d be able to book it and never look back.

She frowns. “Well, I’ll have to take you to the doctor, then.”

His eyes snap back to her face. “No! No, it’s just a headache. There’s a lot to do at work. It’s stressful, sometimes.”

Lying is like second nature to him now. Ryoba, surprisingly, hasn’t noticed.

She giggles and nods. “Oh, of course! I know how work gets.” She learns over, pressing a kiss to the side of his cheek. He fights to keep the bile down.

She moves towards the kitchen, humming softly, and he can hear pots and pans clanking, the sound of a knife being sharpened. Dinner.

He picks up his book and begins to read again. It’s some dimestore novel he picked up at the local grocer, but it’s a distraction.

Another ten minutes pass before he hears Ayano call for him.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you help me with my math? I’m not understanding this one problem!”

_I’ll have no idea what I’m doing, but I’ll try,_ he thinks. “Yeah, I’m coming!”

He pushes up out of his chair and walks into the kitchen.

Suddenly, everything is wrong.

Ryoba’s lying in the middle of the kitchen, eyes glassy and unfocused, staring at the ceiling. A deep gash slices her throat, a pool of crimson surrounding her like a halo. It reeks of iron and death, overpowering him and sending him to his knees. His clothes are covered in it. His hands. The walls.

Everything.

He feels a hand grab his wrist in an iron grip. He looks up from the ground and sees Ryoba smiling up at him, blood still pouring from her throat. She looks awful now, with pure white skin and long black hair matted with blood.

She looks up at him with dead eyes. “ _Haru, love_.” Her voice is a sound of nightmares, an odd rasping and gurgling noise that sounds barely human.

“ _Look what you did to me.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haruto needs therapy.
> 
> (Also, Ryoba is REALLY REALLY HARD to write.)


	9. Awakening

“DAD!”

Haruto snaps awake to a darkened room and tangled sheets. He sits up quickly and looks around with wild eyes. Ayano’s standing at the foot of the bed, her eyes wide and concerned.

“Ayano? It’s-”  He peers at the digital clock on the dresser across the room. Its numbers glow bright red in the darkness. “-God, it’s two in the morning! Why are you even awake?”

She relaxes ever so slightly. “I had to go to the bathroom, and I was going by and heard you thrashing around in bed. I tried to come in and wake you up.”

Haruto clears his throat awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. “I-ah, thanks. It was just a nightmare.”

She looks at him with that odd look in her eyes. “Yeah.” She glances at the clock and yawns. “I’m heading back to bed.”

The corners of his mouth twitch. “Yeah, you need to fix your sleep schedule. Can’t be up playing video games until God knows when when school rolls around.” 

She sticks her tongue out. “Ha-ha. Don’t remind me.”

“I’m your dad, I’ve gotta.”

She makes her way to the door, shuffling her socked feet. 

“G’night, Aya.”

“Goodnight, Dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back after hitting some major writer's block, and I've got a lot of ideas for this fic! I can't wait to get back into the swing of things and share them with you guys! 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!


	10. Traditions

It’s been one month since Ryoba died, and Haruto has never been happier.

Of course, the neighbors ask why they haven’t seen her around, and when she’ll show up to the next book club meeting. He tells them the same thing he told Ayano, and they give him a pitying look and a pat on the shoulder and never bring her up again.

 _Old habits never change,_ Haruto thinks bitterly as he sits out on the back porch one night. _Twenty years and everyone still acts the same._

That night, he dreams of cherry blossoms and Tomoko’s laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter. I promise the future ones will be longer!
> 
> The fact that people vanishing in Japan is just something that people are used to was something that I discovered while researching this story. Often, when someone in Japan is depressed, or addicted, or in debt, they tend to "vanish", never to be seen again by loved ones. In reality, most of the "vanished" people have simply just run away from their problems. And due to the apparent "shame" of having a runaway/missing family member, missing people are severely under-reported in Japan. So, uh, yeah. Pretty depressing.
> 
> Here's some links on it if you guys want to read more. It's pretty fascinating, if I'm being honest.  
> http://nypost.com/2016/12/10/the-chilling-stories-behind-japans-evaporating-people/  
> http://time.com/4646293/japan-missing-people-johatsu-evaporated/


	11. Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy, we're going into canon territory from now on! Now a lot of characters that are mentioned in the tags are actually gonna show up! I'm excited for you guys to see them!
> 
> Also, this story has gotten far more popular than I'd ever expected! Over 1,150 hits! That's amazing! I'm so glad you guys are reading and enjoying this story. I hope you guys stay along for the ride, 'cause it's only gonna get more intense from here.

On the morning of Ayano’s first day of school, she comes downstairs rubbing her eyes sleepily. Haruto looks up from his newspaper, a little smile playing on his lips.

“When did you go to sleep last night?”

“Too late.”

He chuckles and takes a sip of his coffee. “Obviously. There’s still some coffee in the pot, if you want some. And the toaster’s going.”

She nods gratefully and shuffles over to the cabinet, grabbing a mug from the shelf. She pours herself a cup and grabs a yogurt from the fridge, plopping down next to Haruto.

They don’t say anything to each other, eating in comfortable silence. Ayano’s starting to look more alive with every sip of coffee she takes, and Haruto shakes his head. He’s the exact same way.

The toaster dings and Ayano starts to get up, but he holds up his hand. “I’ve got it.” She nods and nurses her coffee more. He grabs jelly from the fridge. As he spreads it on the toast, he shoots glances over at Ayano. Her hair is messy and her eyes vaguely dull with sleep, but she doesn’t look like she’s unhappy.

“Ayano.”

“Hm?”

“Are you excited for school?”

She pauses for a moment, staring into her mug. Her hair hangs in front of her face like a curtain. “Yeah, I guess. As excited as a kid can be for school.”

Haruto laughs softly. “You’d be surprised. My best friend in high school was such a nerd. She was always super excited to go to class. She’d jabber my ear off on our walk to school about how excited she was to see everyone again and wondering what her new classes would be like.”

Ayano looks over at him, the curtain parting and showing her features once more. “Really?”

“Oh yeah.” A little smile plays on his features.“Anyways, I’m sure you’ll have a blast. Are Kuu and Midori in any of your classes?”

Ayano shakes her head. “No. I’m in class 2-1, Midori’s in 3-1, and Kuu’s in 3-2.”

He finishes spreading the jelly and sets it in front of Ayano. “That sucks. At least you can eat lunch together, right?”

“Yeah.”

He grins. “Good.”

There’s a silence again as they eat their toast. He pushes his reading glasses up his nose and scans the newspaper.

There’s a story about a recent house fire and how well Akademi’s summer soccer team has been doing, which he reads with a smile on his face. He’d been a soccer player in his younger years, and his love for the sport has never really faded.

Ayano shoves the last bit of toast into her mouth and stands up. Haruto looks up from his paper, an eyebrow cocked. “You were hungry.”

She shrugs, her mouth full. She points to the ceiling as if to say _“I’ll be upstairs, Dad,”_  and runs out of the kitchen.

It’s a good ten minutes before she comes down again. This time, her hair is brushed and pulled back into a sleek ponytail and her uniform is on, clean and pressed. She’s got her school bag thrown over her shoulder, and she’s got a harried look in her eye. Her eyes glance over to the stove and she groans. He follows her gaze, glancing over that the stove clock. _Shit, it’s 6:45!_

“Damn it, we’re behind. You think you can make it by walking, or do you want me to take you?”

She shakes her head. “No, I’ll be good. I’ll run.”

He eyes her nervously. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” She adjusts the strap on her bag and gives him a quick hug. “See you, dad.”

“Love you!” He waves goodbye as she walks out the door. Suddenly, he remembers the surprise he’d put in the fridge. He sprints back to the kitchen, flinging the fridge open and grabbing the bento he’d made last night.

She’s already by the sidewalk when he catches her. “Ayano, wait!”

She turns, a confused look on her face. He pushes the box into her hands. “You almost forgot your lunch.”

She looks up at him, and there’s a look in her eyes that he’s never quite seen before. “Did you make this for me?”

“Well, yeah.”

“When?”

“Last night, after you went to bed. I wanted your first day of school to be special, you know?”

She holds the box close to her, and smiles. It’s a real, genuine smile, one that he hasn’t seen on her face in what seems like ages.

He could cry.

Her voice is softer than usual when she speaks. “Thank you, Dad.”

She gives him a hug, a stronger one this time. He accepts it quickly and presses his lips to her hair.

She pulls away quietly, and glances in the direction of Akademi. “I’d better get going.”

“Yeah. Have fun, Ayano.”

She looks back at him. The smile on her face has softened, but it’s still there. “I will. Don’t worry.”


End file.
